


Our Lives Can Change With Every Breath We Take

by amethystkrystal



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Families of Choice, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, M/M, Minor Riley/Sam Wilson, Mpreg, Omega Bucky Barnes, Past Bucky Barnes/Brock Rumlow, Scenting, Shrunkyclunks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-19 10:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22976611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amethystkrystal/pseuds/amethystkrystal
Summary: Bucky is seven months pregnant when his god-awful boyfriend abandons him halfway through their road trip and leaves him stranded in a Walmart parking lot. Penniless, alone, and anxiously counting down the days until he gives birth, Bucky spends his nights sleeping inside the Walmart and his days reading sci-fi novels at the nearby public library. It's there that he meets Steve, a handsome alpha who's got a warm smile, a knack for drawing cartoons, and a very big secret.(Based on the filmWhere the Heart Isbut you don't need to have seen it to understand this fic)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Comments: 93
Kudos: 1375
Collections: Marvel Trumps Hate 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flowerparrish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowerparrish/gifts).



> This fic was written for Marvel Trumps Hate 2019. Many thanks to the mods of that event and to Flowerparrish for bidding on me and making an incredibly generous donation to Disability Rights Education & Defense Fund.

Bucky stares out the car window, watching the endless rows of pine trees pass by, trying to distract himself from the worsening ache in his back. He and Brock have been on the road for eight hours already and it's been nearly five since they've last stopped. He shifts, trying to get comfortable, but that's a nearly impossible feat at seven months pregnant. Also, he really, really has to pee.

"Hey," Bucky says. "Can we stop at the next exit? I gotta use the bathroom."

Brock rolls his eyes. "Are you fucking serious? Again?"

"Not my fault the baby decided to use my bladder as a couch."

Brock just scoffs and says nothing else. The air sours with the scent of alpha displeasure, making Bucky's stomach turn. 

"When we get to New York," Bucky starts, desperate to talk about something that might put his alpha in a better mood, "we should go see the Statue of Liberty."

"Why the hell would you wanna go see some tourist trap? I'm not gonna have time for shit like that anyways, with my classes and all."

Right. Brock's classes. The whole reason they've left their little Indiana town and are driving thousands of miles to New York City. A few months back, Brock saw an online advertisement for an entrepreneurship course taught by some big-wig Wall Street guy who promised wealth and opportunity for anyone who signed up. It was thousands of dollars to enroll, and honestly, Bucky thought it sounded like a scam, but Brock was convinced this was his big break. Like with most things in his life, Bucky didn't have much of a choice.

They fall back into silence, Bucky continuing with his window staring and futile attempts at getting comfortable. He feels the baby start up a kicking fit inside him, and despite his hurting body and Brock's unhappy mood, Bucky finds himself smiling. He moves a hand over his middle, finding the right spot. Caught up in his joy, he reaches over, takes Brock's hand and places it on his belly.

"You feel that?" 

"No."

"That little  _ bom bom bom _ ?"

Brock pulls his hand away. "I don't feel shit."

Bucky turns back to the window. He feels like he's about to cry, which is probably mostly hormones but still ridiculous and embarrassing. He blinks his tears away and rubs his belly idly, taking comfort in the gentle movements he can feel within. 

Thankfully, it isn't long before they reach the next exit, and despite his attitude, Brock does get off the highway and pull over at the first business they see: a Walmart.

The instant Brock puts the car in park, Bucky throws open his door and makes a beeline for the entrance. A bored-looking employee points him in the direction of the restrooms. Getting to their location at the opposite end of the store feels like an endless trek, but Bucky feels much better once his business is done. 

He takes his time walking back through the store, meandering through the aisles, not eager to get back to Brock and continue on their shitty roadtrip in their shitty car with Brock's shitty attitude. He doesn't let himself think too much about that though, how much he really doesn't want to go to New York or really, be with Brock at all. There weren't many other options for an omega like him, poor and from a small town. Thinking about another life he can never have would just make him miserable.

When he can no longer put off the inevitable, he makes his way out of the store and crosses the parking lot toward where Brock parked. Or, rather, where he  _ thought _ Brock parked because when he gets to that spot, the shiny black SUV in the space is definitely not Brock's car. 

Huh. Must be the next row. But when Bucky walks over there, Brock's car is nowhere to be found. Ok. Maybe the row on the other side?

Bucky spends ten minutes wandering the parking lot and when he circles back to the front entrance there's no denying it: Brock is gone.

Bucky collapses onto one of the benches just outside the store. His mind, strangely, is very calm, though he can feel his heart hammering and legs shaking. 

_There's_ _a gas station across the street_ , Bucky thinks. _He probably just went to get gas_. It's hard to make out in the distance, but there _is_ a grey sedan that looks like Brock's car parked at one of the pumps. 

Five minutes later, the car drives off, and as it pulls out, Bucky sees it wasn't even the same make. 

_ Alright, well, maybe he went to get us dinner or something. _

Bucky sits on the bench for another twenty minutes, but there's no sign of his alpha.

Fuck.

He can feel the panic starting to break through the calm, but he tamps it down. It's fine. Brock will be back. He wouldn't just leave him at a random Walmart in the middle of rural Pennsylvania. 

(Except that he absolutely would, a tiny voice in his head said, because Brock Rumlow is selfish and mean and--)

Bucky shakes himself and stands up, heading back inside the Walmart. He asks the woman at the customer service desk if he can use the phone, and when he dials Brock's number, it goes straight to voicemail. He leaves a message, even though deep down he knows it's pointless.

The panic is starting to hit him full force now, the reality of his situation setting in. He goes back outside to sit on the bench, partly because he feels like he's going to pass out and partly because there's nothing else to do. 

Brock isn't coming back. Bucky has nothing but the clothes on his back and twenty bucks in his wallet. He doesn't own a cell phone (Brock never let him have one), and even if he did, who would he call? Any family he has is either dead or didn't give a shit about him. He doesn't have any friends because Brock is a possessive and controlling asshole. 

Dazed, Bucky thanks the customer service woman and goes back to sit on the bench outside, for lack of anything else to do. He sits there for God knows how long, receiving concerned looks from passerbyers -- the scent of distressed, pregnant omega is an alarming one. He can't bring himself to get up. There's nothing for him to do next, and he's too stricken with shock to make his brain work through any kind of next steps.

Eventually though, he feels pangs of hunger strong enough to force him on his feet and into the store. There's a Subway sandwich shop inside, and Bucky orders the cheapest sub on the menu and a water bottle. He sits down at one of the rickety tables to eat and notices a clock hanging on the wall. 8PM, it reads. He's been at this Walmart nearly three hours.

He takes his time eating and at last, allows himself to start thinking about what to do next. He can hitchhike back to Indiana, maybe. Though that thought immediately fills him with dread; traveling alone as an omega is dangerous enough, never mind that he's seven months pregnant. Besides, there's nothing for Bucky in Indiana. The lease on he and Brock's crappy apartment has already ended. He doesn't have any friends or family he could trust; even the people he considers acquaintances are really just Brock's friends that he was forced to spend time with by proxy. Bucky never really realized until now how isolated Brock kept him, and he feels a wave of anger and shame at himself. 

So, going back to Indiana is out. Maybe there's a local homeless shelter, one for omegas specifically. Maybe he can stay there for a while, until he finds a job and saves up enough for a place of his own. Except, what the hell is he going to do when the baby comes?

Bucky lets out a sigh, blinking back frustrated tears. He's pissed at Brock for leaving him in the middle of nowhere. He's pissed at himself for being with Brock in the first place, for letting him knot him and call him "my omega". 

At least he never let Brock truly bond him, though, always pulling away when Brock tried to mark him with a mating bite. Maybe he possessed a shred of self-worth after-all. Bucky might be well and truly fucked in his current situation but at least he isn't dealing with being abandoned by a bondmate. 

If he's really being honest, despite everything, he's feeling a little bit of relief, deep down. Brock is gone. No more walking on eggshells around his unpredictable temper. No more smothering possessiveness. No more sex that made Bucky feel used-up afterwards. His baby is going to grow up without ever knowing Brock Rumlow, and that at least, Bucky can count as a blessing. 

"Excuse me," a voice beside him shakes Bucky out of his spiraling thoughts. One of the Subway employees is peering down at him, a bucket of cleaning supplies in one hand. "I'm sorry, but we have to start closing now."

"Oh." Bucky looks up at the clock; it reads 8:55. The whole store is nearly empty. He apologizes and gets up hastily. 

" _ Attention Walmart shoppers. The store will be closing in five minutes. Please bring all final purchases to the front of the store. _ "

Bucky's heart sinks. In five minutes, he'll be out on the streets. Maybe the gas station across the street will still be open and he can pass some time in the convenience store there. Maybe someone there might know who he could call about a shelter.

Before he does anything, he has to use the bathroom again. He enters the stall when the store makes their final closing announcement, and when he emerges, instead of walking out, he just… sinks to the floor, suddenly overwhelmed by his instincts screaming at him to stay somewhere safe. He can't go out into the streets, uncertain of whether he'll find shelter or a place to sleep, not when he's carrying a baby. 

So the minutes tick by, and Bucky begins to realize quite a bit of time passed since closing and nobody has disturbed him. He gets up and cracks the bathroom door open. It's dark in the store, just a few scattered security lights on. He ventures out and after walking a bit, realizes he's completely alone. Nobody's here to make him leave.

Feeling a bit braver, he wanders to the furniture aisle, where he remembers seeing a big sofa on display. Exhausted, he lays down. Maybe eventually, some night crew will find him and call the cops, but until that happens, at least he'll be comfortable. 

He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, it's to the sound of distant voices, and he can see faint early-morning sunlight coming in through the high store windows. The store is opening again.

He leaps off the sofa and runs back toward the bathroom, locking himself in the stall. Several minutes pass, but nobody discovers him. A strange, elated feeling fills him. And then he has a crazy thought:

_ I could stay in the Walmart _ .

After freshening up best he can in the bathroom, Bucky decides to venture out of the store. If he's going to be spending his nights inside the Walmart for the time being (an idea that is equal parts insane and sort-of brilliant) then he can't let the employees start getting suspicious about him spending all day there. 

Getting a full night's rest did him could; he's starting to form the barest beginnings of a plan for what to do next. The Walmart has computers in the Electronics section -- he can use those to start looking for jobs. He can find a cheap apartment somewhere once he's saved up. For the first time since he realized Brock was gone, Bucky begins to feel something like hope about his situation, like maybe it's going to be alright after all. 

It's a sunny morning when he walks out of the store, clutching a plastic bag containing a croissant from the bakery and a bottle of water. He purchased the items with the little cash he had, but in the future, he plans to gather the items he needs during the night. The idea of taking stuff without paying makes him feel uneasy, but he plans to write down everything he takes and pay it back someday. 

Plus, Walmart is a greedy mega-corp. He's sure they can survive the loss. 

He turns left out of the parking lot. Going right, he remembers, leads to the highway ramp, but left seems to be heading more into town. He walks aimlessly, passing fast-food restaurants and office parks and a car dealership. He isn't seeking anything in particular, it just feels nice to be outside, to feel the warm sun on his skin and to know that he isn't beholden to anyone. He can feel the baby shifting around inside him, and he feels, despite everything, it's a good day. 

After about twenty minutes of walking, Bucky comes to a building that catches his eye. It's only two stories, made of dark brick with ivy going up the sides, and a pair of stone lions flank the front entrance. It's a library. 

Bucky finds himself climbing the steps to go inside. He always loved libraries. He read all the time when he was a kid, up until he and Brock started dating in high school and he made fun of Bucky ceaselessly until he stopped bothering to have books in their trailer. Still, even though it's been years since he'd read for pleasure, Bucky still feels that familiar happy thrill at stepping into the library and being surrounded by shelves and shelves of books. 

"Can I help you?"

Bucky turns to see an elderly woman at the front desk smiling kindly at him. "Oh, no, just looking around, thank you."

"Are you new to town?"

Of course, this would be the kind of town where everybody knows everybody, and any new face is sure to be noticed. After an uncertain pause, Bucky says, "Just visiting."

The woman's kind demeanor doesn't waver. Bucky isn't surprised; people are usually very nice to visibly pregnant omegas. "Well, you need to be a resident to check anything out with a library card, but feel free to read anything here. You're allowed to take books out back if you like."

She gestures out the back window and Bucky notices for the first time that the library is right by a small pond, an assortment of outdoor tables and chairs set up on a small patio right outside. 

Bucky beams. "Thank you."

Five minutes later, Bucky is settling in one of the outdoor chairs and about to start the first chapter of a beaten paperback Star Wars Expanded Universe novel when he's distracted by the most attractive alpha he's ever encountered. The stranger's scent conveys safety, warmth, and confident strength -- the very best traits of an alpha. He's tall and muscled with overgrown honey blond hair and a full beard. Sitting at one of the tables, he's bent over what looks like a sketchbook, though he looks up after a second and gives Bucky a half-smile. When he looks down at the book in Bucky's hands, his eyes widen.

"Oh," he says. "I didn't know there were books too." 

Bucky is momentarily confused about what the man is talking about and then realizes "Oh, yeah, there's a ton of Star Wars books."

For some reason, this seems to trouble the man. "A friend told me I should check out Star Wars, so I watched all the movies, but I didn't know there were books too."

Bucky thinks it's a little weird that this guy is talking about Star Wars like it's a niche thing one of his friends is into and not a global phenomenon, but he chooses not to comment. Instead, he just laughs and says, "Well, you don't  _ have _ to read the books. Most people have just watched the movies."

The man seems relieved by that, which, again, Bucky finds strange. He nods at the book in Bucky's hands. "Maybe I'll give that one a try, if it's any good."

"I'll let you know."

They fall quiet after that, Bucky starts to read and the man goes back to his sketching. The book is alright, but Bucky keeps finding himself getting distracted, looking up occasionally to stare at the alpha. He still hasn't gotten used to his scent, intoxicating in its musk, and besides that, the man himself is simply a sight to behold, handsome and powerfully built, exuding pure  _ alpha _ vibes, even as he draws in his sketchbook with delicate care. Bucky can't remember the last time he was so drawn to someone, and he swiftly blames his pregnancy hormones. 

After a couple hours, the man gathers his things, throws Bucky a polite smile, and leaves. Bucky is embarrassed by how much the man's departure saddens him. But after that, he's able to actually get into his book, which turns out to be very good. He feels… content. It's a warm, sunny day. He's reading a good book. He's found a public library where he can stay as long as he likes. 

Later that night, when he's back in the Walmart, alone in the dark, he's already looking forward to going back to the library the next morning. He tries not to think too much about the possibility of the handsome alpha being back as well. 

To Bucky's delight, the blond alpha is back again the next day. He's outside with his sketchbook again, and when he sees Bucky coming outside, the warm smile he gives sends an electric feeling right to Bucky's heart.

"How's the book?" the alpha says. 

"Very good," Bucky tells him. "If you wanna know more about what happened after  _ Return of the Jedi  _ you should read it when I'm done."

"Thanks, but I'm more of a prequels guy."

Bucky opens his mouth to make a protest and then notices the corner of the man's mouth quirk up. "Oh, you're messing with me."

The man grins fully. "My friend told me the best way to rile up a Star Wars fan is to mention the prequels."

Bucky lets out a snort but he can't help being further charmed.

"What are you drawing?" Bucky asks him.

The man's cheeks tinge pink at the question, which has Bucky hopelessly endeared. "Just some character designs. I'm thinking about doing a comic." 

"Oh, like superheroes?"

That seems to amuse the man, his smile going wry. "Something like that."

When the man doesn't say anything more, Bucky leaves him to his drawing and settles into his own book. Or at least, he tries to. The alpha's attractiveness is no less distracting on this second encounter.

Later, when the man gets up to leave, instead of simply smiling politely like he did before, he turns to Bucky and say, "Have a good day…?"

"Bucky."

The man's face goes soft, happy alpha scent wafting from him. "Steve."

A bubbly feeling rises up in Bucky's chest. "See you around, Steve."

A few weeks pass. Bucky spends his days mostly at the library and his nights at the Walmart. Within a matter of days, he's figured out exactly what time the store empties completely at night and what time the morning crew arrives the next day. He takes a notebook from the "School and Office" aisle and starts writing down everything he takes: food, clothes, toiletries, the bedding he uses at night. He intends to pay it back, someday. 

Before he goes to sleep, he uses the laptops on display in the electronics department to search for jobs. So far, nothing has turned up, and as the days tick closer to his due date, he tries not to think too much about how he's on a very tight timeline. 

He goes to the library everyday, bringing food to last him hours and sitting out on the little patio with a book. He spends a lot of time reading, but he also spends a lot of time out there simply  _ being _ , laying out in the sunlight, relaxing. At this late stage in his pregnancy, his omega instincts are screaming at him to find a safe place to hole up and nest. Given his situation, he can't exactly do that, but he can at least revel in the comfort offered this safe space he does have. 

Steve is at the library nearly everyday, and though Bucky hardly admits it to himself, he knows the alpha's presence is a big part of his serenity. Steve is tall and muscled, but despite his size, there's nothing about him that makes Bucky afraid. It's the opposite, in fact. Steve, who is kind and earnest, makes Bucky feel comfortable. Safe. Like an alpha's presence should, like nothing Bucky knew when he was with Brock. 

Their conversations are usually short and casual, Steve asking Bucky how he's liking whatever book he's reading and then Bucky asking Steve about his drawing. One day though, Steve asks him if he's from around here and anxiety twists in Bucky's gut.

"No," he says after a too-long pause. "I, um, just moved here."

"You and your alpha?"

Bucky can't help letting out a humorless bark of laughter. "Definitely not."

"Oh," is all Steve says, but he glances down at Bucky's swollen belly, looking troubled. Bucky isn't surprised by this; an omega without a partner is rare, and there's a lot of stigma attached to it. Most people think either the alpha is a selfish jerk for abandoning their omega and child, or they assume the omega slept around, a dirty whore who was stupid and irresponsbile enough to get knocked up. If Steve is making any judgements about Bucky's situation, though, he seems to be going with the former line of thinking. There's no disgust in his expression, just sadness and something else Bucky can't quite discern.

"It's better off this way," Bucky says quickly. And that's true. Homeless and living in a damn Walmart has proved to be infinitely better than being with Brock. Not that either of those options are particularly great. But still, Bucky can't help finding the silver lining. 

Steve still looks upset at Bucky's predicament, but he smiles and asks Bucky if he's read any of the comics in the library's collection, and Bucky is grateful for the change of subject. 

Bucky lets out a groan. Now just over eight months pregnant, finding a comfortable sitting position is all but impossible, and to make matters worse, not two seconds after he opened his book, the baby started kicking up a storm.

Beside him, Steve looks up, hand frozen mid-sketch. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Bucky huffs. "Baby's just using my insides for soccer practice."

"Oh." Steve's worried expression melts into relief, and then his gaze falls, uncharacteristically shy. "Could I feel?"

Bucky feels suddenly overwhelmed with emotion he can't quite name. In his surprise, he must take too long to reply because Steve gets embarrassed.

"Sorry, I don't have to-- I mean, it was rude of me--"

"Hey, no, I don't mind," Bucky says immediately. "Here." He reaches over and grabs Steve's hand, bringing it to rest over a spot on his lower belly. "You feel that?"

Steve looks simply awed. "Yeah. Wow. That's amazing."

The scent of alpha happiness and pride in the air is unmistakable, and Bucky suddenly remembers all those weeks ago, when Brock's hand was on his belly and he scoffed and told Bucky he couldn't feel shit. Steve's obvious awe and enthusiasm is such a stark contrast, it makes his head spin a little, dizzying in the way it makes him feel warm from head to toe.

"Hey." Steve is looking up at him, concern back on his face. "Are you sure you're okay?"

It's then that Bucky realizes he was tearing up.

"Yeah," he said, grinning as he wipes his eyes. "Just hormones."

The next day, Bucky notices Steve keeps periodically glancing at him as he works in his sketchbook.

"Are you drawing me?" he asks and from the way Steve's ears go pink, Bucky knows right away what the answer is.

"Just doodling as a warm up." Steve doesn't meet his eyes.

The thing is, sometimes Steve does things that make Bucky wonder if he isn't the only one feeling attraction. His scent always turns happy when Bucky comes out onto the library patio. He talks to Bucky with enthusiasm about the books he was reading. Sometimes he draws little comic strips and shows them off to Bucky with a hopeful, expectant expression, like it really matters to him if it makes Bucky laugh. 

So. Sometimes Bucky wonders. But he doesn't let himself follow that train of thought too far. He's technically homeless and about to have a baby -- now isn't the time to think about getting involved with another alpha. And besides, as much fun as it was to think about, in all likelihood, Steve probably isn't interested in him at all. Steve is kind and intelligent and probably the most handsome person Bucky has ever seen. He can have any omega he wants -- why would he go for Bucky, who's unmated and about to have another alpha's baby?

He likes Steve, and Steve seems to like spending time with him, and if nothing else, Bucky definitely needs a friend. Any other thoughts, Bucky just pushes aside.

Bucky has a hard time focusing on his book that day, and for once, it doesn't have anything to do with Steve. Every once in a while, he feels a dull cramp in his belly. This far along, false contractions are normal and serve to remind him how short his timeline is. He's going to give birth sometime in the next few weeks, and Bucky hasn't really thought of a plan beyond that. The hospital will probably end up discharging him to an omega's shelter, but then what? He can't stay there forever. He'll probably end up having to suck up his pride and call one of the least-awful of his and Brock's friends from Indiana to get him. 

_ One day at a time _ , Bucky tells himself, rubbing soothing, idle circles over his belly. That was his mantra the past several weeks. 

Bucky's discomfort must have been obvious because as they sit together, every once in a while Steve will ask him things like, "You feeling okay?" or "Do you want me to get you a water or anything?"

Each time, Bucky just brushes it off, but secretly, it makes him feel something soft inside, being the subject of Steve's concerned attention. 

When they part ways that evening, Bucky still isn't feeling so well. He's achy all over, cramping more often than he had in the days prior. It's a relief when the Walmart finally empties that night and Bucky can emerge from the mostly-empty supply closet he waits in before closing and collapse onto the display bed in the furniture aisle. 

"You're a lot of trouble, you know that?" Bucky says softly to his belly. He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, exhausted. "But you're gonna be worth it."

He only just starts to drift off when a sharp pain in his low belly jerks him into wakefulness. He cries out, disoriented and hurting. The pain is like the cramps he'd been feeling throughout the day, only more intense. He breathes through it, trying to ignore the feelings of panic and dread steadily creeping up on him. After a couple moments, the pain passes and Bucky settles back down on the bed, eyes stinging with tears. He means to fall asleep, but he's too unsettled. He can't shake the feeling…

_ Not yet _ .  _ Please. I'm not ready yet _ .

The pain comes again, so intense he actually screams, and he can't deny anymore what's happening, what's  _ been _ happening all day.

Clutching his belly, he gets off the bed and takes a shaky step forward. There's a phone at the front of the store he can use to call 911. It's difficult to walk, he's in so much pain. It takes him five minutes just to make it out of the furniture department and then another contraction hits, hurting so bad he sinks to his knees, panting and moaning. 

He makes a little progress like that: taking slow, shaky steps for a little bit until the pain becomes too overwhelming for him to even stand. The contractions come quicker and quicker, and he's only made it halfway across the store before he can't even get to his feet again. Time floats away as he lays there, grunting and shouting his way through contraction after contraction. His mind has turned hazy, as is common for laboring omegas. He doesn't have the capacity to make it to the phone anymore, can't spare a thought for anything besides that the needs to bring his baby into the world soon.

_ Crash _

Dimly, he registers the sound of shattered glass hitting linoleum and footsteps coming toward him.

"Bucky! Bucky, oh my god."

He smells an alpha -- warm and safe and  _ familiar _ \-- and then a pair of big strong arms are lifting him up and carrying him. And it takes him a second to realize he knows the face looking down at him.

"Steve?" 

Steve tucks him close against his chest and starts taking long effortless strides across the floor, like Bucky doesn't weigh anything. 

"You're alright," Steve says and Bucky just curls in closer, following the instinct to seek safety and comfort as his body riots in pain. "I've got you."


	2. Chapter 2

When Bucky opens his eyes, he takes in the plain off-white walls and beeping medical equipment and realizes immediately that he's in a hospital room. He feels groggy and lightheaded, and it takes him a second to remember what happened to land him here. Even then, the memory is foggy. He went into labor and he couldn't make it to the phone and someone rescued him…

He looks down and presses a hand to his noticeably smaller belly.  _ Oh god my baby _ . The full weight of the situation begins to hit him.  _ Where the hell is my baby? _

"Hey, you're awake."

Bucky startles at the voice, only just noticing that someone was standing in the room. It's a handsome male omega with short, dark hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. By the look of his pale blue scrubs and the medical cart he's wheeling over to Bucky's bedside, he must be a nurse. He gives Bucky a friendly smile, easy and warm.

"My name is Sam. I'm gonna be taking care of you."

"My baby -- what happened to my baby?" Now that he's a little more conscious, Bucky is starting to feel the wave of post-delivery instincts to hold and scent his baby, and he knows he's gonna lose his mind in about five seconds if he doesn't fulfill those urges.

Sam's face softens. "He's in the nursery now. We had to perform an emergency c-section, but he's completely healthy and you seem to be healing up okay."

Bucky finds the strength to sit up a little straighter. "It's a boy? Can I see him?"

"Of course."

Once Sam leaves, Bucky contemplates his situation. He's immensely relieved that his son is okay, and that feeling almost overshadows his worries about what's gonna happen next. Almost.

Bucky  _ hears _ his son before he even sees him, the sound of soft cries sounding from the hallway seconds before Sam pushes the incubator into the room. Bucky starts tearing up immediately, caught off guard by the intensity of his own reaction. He raises his arms up, and Sam places his son into his waiting hands.

"Hi sweetheart," Bucky says, voice thick. "I'm so glad you're finally here."

He bends forward, taking in his son's scent. He smells sweet and clean and like  _ his _ . Bucky can't stop crying; he loves him so much, it's so great and boundless and feels like more than he could ever contain. 

"He's a cutie."

Bucky had momentarily forgotten Sam's presence, too enraptured by his son. He sniffles, attempting to collect himself, but he can't help his beaming. His son is  _ perfect _ .

"And he's already got a ton of admirers. Everybody's a fan of the Captain America Walmart Rescue baby."

Bucky jerks out of his enamored stupor. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah, man. They got security footage of him throwing himself through the glass doors and then carrying you out and running here. Which is like, four miles, by the way."

Bucky is sure he must be on some high-dose painkillers, because nothing Sam is saying is making any sense. He  _ does  _ remember someone finding him last night. He remembers feeling safe and relieved in their presence. He remembers someone warm and familiar. He remembers--

"Holy shit. You mean  _ Steve _ ?!"

It makes sense, all of a sudden. The way Steve was so strangely fascinated by Star Wars. The way he was unfailingly friendly and kind to Bucky but never really offered any information about himself. Under the beard and overgrown hair, Steve could definitely be the star-spangled man who'd dominated the news cycle for weeks after he'd been found in the Arctic and then saved New York City from an alien invasion.

"You  _ know _ Steve?" Sam asks, eyebrow raised.

"He was at the library," Bucky says dazedly, which probably doesn't explain much to Sam. He's having a little trouble processing everything right now.

Sam, bless him, doesn't press and just says, "He comes by here sometimes in his Cap outfit for the kids, and he's renting a house in my neighborhood. We see each other jogging in the morning sometimes. He's a good guy, even aside from the whole superhero thing."

"Yeah," Bucky agrees. He's feeling… a lot right now. He doesn't know what to make of the fact that  _ Steve _ \-- handsome and kind and smelled like a dream  _ Steve _ \-- is the famous displaced World War II superhero. 

His son lets out a little cry and Bucky rocks him gently, still smiling so big it hurts.  _ This is what matters now _ , Bucky thinks. Whatever bond he may or may not have formed with Steve, whatever it means now that Bucky knows who he is, it's nothing compared this new priority Bucky has.

"You got a name for the little guy?" Sam asks.

"Thomas," Bucky says. He'd been thinking about that one for a while, after his grandfather, who used to look after Bucky when his parents were off God knows where getting drunk or high. He hesitates to say the middle name that occurred to him only seconds ago but nevertheless felt indiscriminately  _ right _ . "Thomas Steven."

Sam barks out a laugh. "Oh he's gonna love that."

Bucky spends the rest of the morning getting caught up with whatever the hell happened after he'd gone into labor. Sam shows him the video that's gone viral: Steve crashing shoulder-first through the Walmart front entrance and then emerging moments later with Bucky in his arms, a solemn, determined look on his face as he sprints off, presumably towards the hospital. 

"He showed up here, all bloody and cut up from the glass, shouting for help," Sam tells him. 

"Is he still here?"

"Nah. I convinced him to stay and get those cuts looked at, and then he left right after that. Didn't wanna attract attention, he said. He's been texting me asking about you, though."

"Oh." Bucky doesn't really know what to say to that or what to do about the warm feeling that grows inside him at the mention of Steve being so concerned for his well-being. 

"Bucky." Sam looks suddenly very serious. "Can I ask what you were doing alone inside a Walmart after closing hours?"

Bucky likes Sam. He has a relaxed demeanor that makes Bucky feel at ease, and he has yet to make Bucky feel weird about his situation, which, given that he literally arrived at the hospital in the arms of Captain freakin' America, is admittedly pretty weird. Which is why Bucky sighs, and tells him.

"My ex-alpha -- the baby's father -- we were driving to New York together and he abandoned me at the Walmart. I didn't have a phone or money, so I just… stayed there."

"Shit. That's awful."

Saying his predicament aloud for the first time seems to have opened some kind of floodgate, because Bucky finds himself going on. "I don't have any friends back home, just the people Brock -- the asshole who left me here -- used to make me hang around. All my family is either dead or we don't talk. I don't know what's gonna happen next." Bucky starts choking up, partly because he's just had a baby and his hormones have gone haywire and partly because he's about to vocalize the thing he'd truly been most afraid of all this time. "I don't want them to take my baby away."

"Hey, hey." Sam's face softens and he sits down at the edge of Bucky's bed. "Nobody is taking away your baby."

"But I don't have anywhere to live, and I've been technically stealing from Walmart for two months--"

"Let me show you something." Sam pulls out his phone and within seconds, he's navigated to the official Walmart Twitter page. He presses play on a video that was posted only a few hours ago.

" _ Hello, my name is Doug McMillon, CEO of Walmart, _ " the sharp-dressed man in the video says. " _ One of our stores has gotten quite a bit of buzz recently after Captain American was seen rescuing a pregnant omega from inside. It's heroes like the Captain that inspire us to commit ourselves to helping the local communities of our stores. That is why Walmart would like to offer a gift of $2,000 to the young omega whom Captain America rescued. Next time you are in our store, please present yourself to the customer service desk to receive our gift to you and your baby. _ "

"I mean, this is definitely a PR stunt," Sam says, when the video ends. "If they actually gave a damn about the community they'd pay their workers a living wage. But hey, two-grand is two-grand."

"Holy shit," is all Bucky can manage to say. 

"And look," Sam reaches over and grabs the stack of cards that were on Bucky's bedside table. "These are from locals. Dropped them off at reception this morning. They've got cash and gift cards in them."

Bucky doesn't know what to say. He feels like he's gonna burst into tears again.

"My point is, there's good people out there who wanna help you. You and your baby are gonna be alright."

Bucky isn't sure that he believes Sam exactly -- it's all too much to fully process. But it does seem like the spectre of dread and fear that was his constant companion since the moment he found out he was pregnant has been banished for a little while.

The doctor, a short woman with round glasses, comes to see Bucky a few hours later. Sam already told him that they'd done an emergency c-section, but she explains about how Thomas had been presenting sideways rather than headfirst and the abnormal positioning was causing fetal distress.

"It's a good thing Captain Rogers found you when he did," she says, matter-of-factly.

Despite his harrowing labor though, Bucky's stitches look good and Thomas is perfectly healthy; he only needs to stay in the hospital a few more days. 

Bucky tries not to worry about it too much during the next couple days, instead throwing himself fully into the absolute bundle of joy that is Thomas Steven. The first few days after birth are crucial for omegas and their babies to bond, so Thomas hasn't left Bucky's side since he woke up. Bucky loves holding him more than anything, the skin to skin contact flooding his hindbrain with happy, soothing pheromones. And, maybe Buckiy's a little biased, but Thomas seems to be a really good baby so far, only crying when he's tired or hungry or needs to be changed, easily soothed by just being in Bucky's arms. 

One day, Sam comes in holding a book, which Bucky recognizes as the sci-fi novel he'd been reading at the library before he went into labor.

"Steve wanted me to give this to you," Sam says as he hands it over. When Bucky opens up the first page, a small piece of paper falls out. He picks it up and reads:

_ Bucky, _

_ I thought you might like to have this to read while you're recovering. Hope you and the baby are doing well. _

_ -Steve _

On the bottom of the page, there's a cartoon of Bucky piloting a rocketship with his smiling baby strapped in the co-pilot chair. Sam very kindly does not say anything when Bucky starts tearing up.

There's a few nurses that rotate through, but Bucky finds himself feeling most connected to Sam. It's a small hospital that Bucky's at, which means the nurses aren't stretched thin and forced to rush through seeing patients. Every time he comes by, Sam spends a good amount of time in Bucky's room just keeping him company. Their favorite pastime is laughing at memes people have made about Bucky's situation. 

"This one kills me," Sam says, showing Bucky yet another video. Someone had taken the security footage of Steve throwing his whole body through the glass Walmart doors and captioned it "When you're desperate for dinosaur chicken nuggets but Walmart closes at 10 and it's 10:03".

Bucky cracks a tiny smile. It  _ is  _ pretty funny, but Bucky can't shake the anxiety in the pit of his stomach. That morning, the doctor had told him he's healing as expected and they should be able to discharge him in a couple of days. 

Sam turns off the video, which had started playing on a loop. "Hey, you okay? You usually lose it at the ones that have Steve going through the window."

"Yeah, I… I know I'm getting discharged soon, and I wanted to ask if you knew about any omegas' shelters in the area."

He could be imagining it, but he thinks Sam's expression turns slightly unhappy when he says, "Yeah we have connections with a few local places. I'll look into it, and we can figure out options tomorrow."

"Okay," is all Bucky says, and he holds Thomas close while Sam puts on another silly video. 

The next morning, Sam comes into Bucky's room holding a stack of handouts and pamphlets. He sets them down on the bedside table and taps them with his finger. 

"We can go through these, if you want to. But last night, I talked to my alpha, and he said you can stay with us for a little, until you get back on your feet."

Bucky can't quite comprehend what Sam's saying. "What?"

Sam just shrugs, like it's no big deal, like it's nothing to offer to let a practical stranger and their newborn stay in his home. "We've got a spare bedroom."

"You don't have to--"

"I want to help," Sam says, gentle but firm. The moment feels heavy, as Bucky is overwhelmed by the kindness of the offer. Then Sam cracks a smile, lightening things. "I got selfish motives too; I'm not ready to say goodbye to this little guy yet."

Sam leans over toward Thomas in Bucky's arms and gives his tiny fist a playful nudge with his finger. Thomas grasps it reflexively and Sam beams. Bucky softens, feeling like his heart is melting right in his chest. He's got a friend -- a friend who cares about him  _ and  _ his baby -- and it's more than he ever let himself hope for. 

"Thank you," Bucky says, and Sam takes the pamphlets and handouts away when he leaves.

Bucky gets discharged the next day and Sam has him wait on the bench outside the front entrance while he brings the car around. Even as he holds Thomas close and secure, he can't help the nervous shaking in his legs. He's grateful for Sam taking him in, and he knows he shouldn't be afraid -- Sam has been nothing but warm to him the moment they met. But… Brock was nice too, once. He's experienced good things in his life, but it's never lasted long and even as he's grateful and hopeful, that there's a tiny bit of doubt in his mind too. 

Sam pulls up after a few minutes in a sensible Ford sedan and Bucky gets Thomas settled in the infant car seat (which Sam bought the day previously and refused to take any money for, despite Bucky's insistence) and then sits up front with Sam. The ride to Sam's is short, and despite the fact that he keeps glancing back every few minutes to sneak a glance at Thomas (who is sleeping like, well,  _ a baby _ ), Bucky does try and get more of a look at the town. Sam lives on a long, winding side streets just off the main road that the library and Walmart are on. It's a cute neighborhood, lots of quaint ranches and pine trees.

"That's the place Steve's renting," Sam says when they pass a brick house with a small yard, and Bucky feels that same spreading warmth in his belly he always feels when he thinks about Steve. 

"How long has he been living out here?"

"Almost a year, maybe? It was after that attack on the City. He was jogging around the neighborhood one morning and I figured out who he was pretty quick after he'd lapped me twice before I even made it around the block once."

"What's Captain America doing in this little town anyways?"

"Never really asked him. I think the guy's just looking for some peace and quiet, you know?"

Bucky nods. He can't even imagine what it was like for Steve, to wake up and find out almost seventy years have passed. Well, he can imagine a little; he knows now what it's like to have your whole world upended in a matter of minutes. He'll never forget the cold shock of realizing Brock had left him, that he'd been cut loose from his past life and he felt both free and lost all at once. 

He's glad Steve, at least, seems to have found somewhere to settle.

Less than a minute later, they pull up to a red-painted house with a tidy front lawn and a black pick-up truck parked in the driveway. Sam's husband's, probably. Bucky doesn't know much about him, and even though all logic tells him it's fine, he feels slight anxiety turning in his gut at the prospect of meeting a strange alpha.

Bucky picks up Thomas out of the carseat, bouncing him gently to soothe his fussing at being transported, and follows Sam up the drive and into the house. He doesn't have a single suitcase; it's just him and Thomas. 

Inside, the house is messy, but in a lived-in, cozy sort of way: dozens of keepsake magnets on the refrigerator, a quilt thrown over the loveseat in the living room. It smells like Sam and the strong, earthy scent of alpha mingled together, like two people in love sharing a space. Like a home.

"Hey Riley?" Sam calls, heading down the hallway with Bucky in tow. "I'm home and I've got Bucky."

" _ Fuck! _ " someone yells from the room at the end of the hall, just as Sam and Bucky walk inside. 

The room is mostly empty, save for a plain double bed, a changing table in one corner and what appears to be the pieces of an unassembled crib strewn across the floor. Standing in the middle of the mess is a stocky blond alpha with a harried look on his face. He looks up and smiles sheepishly at Bucky.

"Shit, sorry. I wanted to have this done for you before you got here. I'm Riley." The blond man -- Riley, apparently -- extends his hand and Bucky shakes it, feeling a little dumbfounded as he realizes that the room and all its contents are for him.

"You didn't have to do this."

Riley waves a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. I like a good building project."

"It's true," Sam says, going over to give Riley a brief but warm peck on the lips. "He goes out of his mind with boredom if he doesn't have some kind of project going on his days off."

"Thank you," Bucky tells them both, hoping his voice conveys the boundless sincerity he feels. 

He and Sam end up going back out into the kitchen-living room area while Riley continues with putting the crib together. Sam fixes up some sandwiches and he and Bucky eat in the living room, Thomas napping in his carseat. 

"I know it's been almost a week," Bucky says. "But I feel like I just can't stop staring at him."

"If I had a dollar for everytime I've heard a new parent say that…"

"He's just… god I can't even describe it." Bucky feels like he's been trying for days to name the enormous, overwhelming emotion he's been feeling ever since he laid eyes on Thomas, but so far he's been unable to put it to words. All he knows is that he's the most important person in the world.

"Well, he's a cutie, I'll give you that."

"Do you and Riley..."

"Someday, maybe. We're kinda just taking life as it comes, you know?"

"You guys seem really good together." Bucky doesn't have much experience with healthy, loving relationships, but the way Sam and Riley light up around each other, the way their home smells like warmth and love, is impossible to miss.

Sam smiles softly, like he can't help it. "I was a nurse at Walter Reed, and he was my patient. He kept flirting with me everyday, felt like I was on an episode of Grey's Anatomy. Eventually, he got discharged and went back overseas, and I figured I'd never see him again. A year later, after his tour was up, he showed up at the hospital, saying he couldn't stop thinking about the handsome nurse who laughed at all his jokes, and he asked me out to dinner. We've been together ever since."

"That's really sweet," Bucky says, though it makes his heart ache, to think about a love like that.

Just then, a loud string of curses comes from the hallway.

"Oh yeah," Sam says. "Real sweet."

Bucky wakes early the next morning. He didn't get much sleep the night before, what with Thomas needing to be fed every couple hours, so when the sun rises, Bucky decides he might as well be up for the day. Sam and Riley haven't even gotten up yet, and while he's making eggs and toast for himself, he decides to make breakfast for them too.

"Oh man, if this is gonna be an every morning thing, you can stay as long as you want," Riley says when he and Sam finally emerge, both of them helping themselves to a healthy serving of scrambled eggs and slices of toast.

They unfortunately don't have much time to linger, both of them needing to head to work -- Sam at the hospital and Riley for his shift as an ambulance driver -- but before they go, they assure Bucky that he's welcome to help himself to anything in the house. 

Bucky already has a plan for the day. Once Thomas is fed and changed and dressed, he puts him in the brand new infant stroller he and Sam had bought the previous afternoon while Riley finished putting the crib together, and they set out down the street to Steves' house. 

There's a motorcycle parked in the driveway -- the same one Bucky remembers seeing outside the library all the time -- so he must be home. Gathering Thomas in his arms, Bucky walks up the front steps and rings the doorbell, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in his stomach. 

Steve comes to the door after a few seconds and his confused expression disappears the instant he recognizes Bucky, shifting into a fond smile as his scent turns pleased.

"Bucky!" he says and then there's a pause before he snaps out of his surprise and opens the door wide. "Shit, I don't mean to make you stand there-- come in, come in."

Steve ushers him into the living room, insisting he take a seat on the sofa, and Bucky can't help smiling at the way Steve's gone full protective alpha at the presence of Bucky and his baby. The house is nice inside, not nearly as homey as Sam and Riley's place, but there's still some personal touches: history books on the coffee table, sketchbook pages scattered about.

"Can I get you anything? A snack? Water?"

Bucky shakes his head, rocking Thomas in his arms. He'd been fussy since he'd taken him out of the stroller, and Bucky's hoping to stave off a meltdown.

"How are you doing?" Steve says, sitting down in the armchair across from Bucky.

"Good. Sam's letting us stay with him until I can get back on my feet."

"He told me. I wanted to come see you in the hospital, but I didn't want to cause a scene. So, uh, I've been asking Sam how you've been."

Oh. That certainly makes Bucky feel something. He doesn't quite know how to respond, and after a beat of silence, Steve nods his head toward Thomas, smiling.

"So that's the little guy who caused all the trouble."

Bucky looks down fondly at his baby and then back up at Steve. "You wanna hold him?"

Steve looks simultaneously shocked, terrified and thrilled by the prospect. "Can I?"

"Here." Bucky extends his arms and places Thomas in Steve's waiting hold. He stops his fussing almost right away as Steve adjusts his grip and holds him close to his chest. Bucky isn't surprised; Steve's warm, safe scent is enough to soothe anybody.

"His name is Thomas. Thomas Steven."

Steve looks up, eyes gone wide.

"You saved my life. You saved  _ both  _ of our lives," Bucky says, firmly because he needs Steve to hear this. It was the whole reason he came. "He was in distress. I had to have an emergency c-section. If you hadn't found me… I don't know what would have happened. So… thank you."

"I'm really glad you're okay," Steve says, absolutely sincere, and then he looks back down at Thomas in his arms, grinning as he makes soft cooing sounds. "He's really beautiful."

Bucky beams. He can't help the warm joy he feels at watching Steve with Thomas. "How did you know I was at the Walmart anyways?"

"Oh. Well I actually wanted to give you the drawing I was working on that day as a gift, but you left early, before I could finish it. But then when I was driving home, I saw you go into the Walmart and I figured I'd give it to you. So I went inside, but you were nowhere to be found. So I waited for you until closing. I almost left then, but… I dunno, I had a feeling something was wrong. Call it alpha's instinct I guess. So I stayed and well, you know what happened next."

Bucky snorts, remembering the viral footage of Steve flinging himself bodily through the glass doors. "I think the whole country knows what happened next."

Steve's cheeks turn pink. "The drawing I was gonna give you is in the kitchen, actually. If you want it."

Bucky tries not to let it be abundantly obvious how much he's affected by the idea of Steve giving him a gift as he goes into the kitchen to retrieve the drawing. He can't help the gasp that escapes him when he sees it though. It's a pencil drawing of Bucky, reclining in the hospital patio chair, one cradling his swollen belly, the other holding open a copy of the sci-fi book he'd been reading. He looks… soft. Relaxed. Content. He looks like a bunch of positive adjectives Bucky can't actually remember feeling much of in his life. 

"You don't have to take it, if you don't want it," Steve says from the living room, after several seconds have gone by and Bucky's done nothing but stare in awe at the drawing. "I just thought maybe it would be nice to put up in the nursery--"

"Steve," Bucky says, coming back into the living room, drawing in hand. He has to blink several times before speaking again because apparently everything makes him cry now. "This is amazing. Thank you."

The scent of alpha pride fills the room immediately, and Bucky feels aching yearning in his chest. Steve drew him looking so gentle and soft. Steve gave him a gift meant for his baby's room. Steve is holding Bucky's son in his arms with so much adoration and sweetness. And Bucky  _ wants _ , so so bad. But--

"So, you're Captain America, huh?"

"I  _ was _ Captain America," Steve says, quietly but with enough conviction that Bucky knows he's serious. "Now I'm just Steve Rogers."

"Well," Bucky says. "I think Steve Rogers is pretty great."

A month goes by and Bucky sees Steve nearly every day. Most mornings, Sam will see Steve on his run and invite him back to the house for breakfast, all four of them will eat together before Sam and Riley head to work, and Steve and Bucky spend the rest of the day doing, well, anything really. Sometimes they run errands. Sometimes they visit the library. Sometimes they just stay in, and Steve helps Bucky with the herculean task that is taking care of an infant. 

Spending time with Steve feels… easy. They make each other laugh. They can talk about anything. Even going to the damn grocery store feels like a fun activity because it's with  _ Steve _ . Bucky knows deep down that he's falling hard and he's falling fast. He also knows those feelings won't do him any good.

"So, Steve's been coming around a lot," Sam says to him one morning as they're cleaning up breakfast. It's just the two of them; Riley already left for work and Steve hadn't been out on his run that morning.

Bucky keeps his tone light. "Yeah, he can't get enough of Thomas, I guess."

"Uh huh," Sam says slowly. "You sure it's  _ Thomas _ he can't get enough of?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb. That boy looks at you like Riley looks at stuffed-crust pizza."

"It's not like that with me and Steve."

"Hey, I just call it like I see it."

"It's--" Bucky huffs. "Look. Me and Steve are from different worlds. I mean, he's a goddamn  _ superhero _ , for chrissakes, and I..." He barks out a humorless laugh. "I'm a homeless unmated omega with a baby."

"Come on, you know Steve's not like that."

"I know he cares about me, okay? I'm not broken so bad that I don't believe that. But, whatever else you think is going on, you're wrong."

They stand there in silence for a second, and then Sam sighs and says, "Maybe I'm wrong about how Steve feels about you; I'm not a mind reader. But here's something I know I'm not wrong about: you aren't less than anybody, Bucky. Doesn't matter what that asshole Brock did to you. Doesn't matter that you have a baby unmated. Doesn't matter that you're going through a hard time right now. You deserve love just like anybody else. Maybe Steve's the guy who will give you that love, maybe he's not. But don't think for one second that you aren't worthy of it."

Bucky doesn't know how to respond. He knows in his head that what Sam's saying is true. But he's also had an entire lifetime of being treated worse than dirt. 

"I'm gonna put Thomas down for his nap," Bucky says finally and disappears with his son into the bedroom.

Later, when Sam's gone to work and Thomas is awake, he decides to go for a walk with the stroller, and inevitably, he finds himself taking the route that goes by Steve's house. It's not unusual for Steve to miss his morning run; sometimes he gets caught up in an art project and loses all track of time. Even when that happens though, he still comes by the house later on. Bucky knows Steve isn't obligated to spend time with him everyday, but, well, he'd been getting used to that routine

When he gets to Steve's place, it's obvious from the drawn shades and lack of motorcycle in the driveway that nobody's home. Bucky stands there for a few pathetic minutes, hoping Steve will be back, but then Thomas starts crying from being still for too long and Bucky reluctantly turns around back to Sam and Riley's.

"I know, buddy," Bucky says as his son continues to whimper. "Me too." 

When they get back, Bucky turns on the kitchen television while he prepares lunch, and after a few seconds of listening to the news program, he forgets all about his sandwich. 

" _ \-- decades long scandal has been uncovered after leaked files revealed HYDRA, the Nazi science division believed to have been dismantled at the end of the Second World War, had been secretly operating with SHIELD since the 1950s. Director Nicholas Fury has yet to make a public statement, but we have received reports that Steve Rogers -- better known as 'Captain America' -- has been spotted in DC. Prior to this week, Rogers hadn't been seen publicly since the attack on New York City... _ "

  
  


Bucky spends the next two weeks following the news with borderline obsession. He's desperate for any mention of Steve, and though there's not much, he takes comfort in the fact that, if something terrible happened to him, it would be the breaking story. Still though, Bucky worries. He remembers enough high school history to know that HYDRA having been operating within a major US agency for decades is Bad News, but beyond that, he also knows how terrible it must be for Steve, who, for all intents and purposes, gave up his life to put an end to this organization that turned out to have been thriving all along. 

There's a knock at the door one afternoon, and when Bucky sees it's Steve through the window, he flings the door open.

"Hi," Bucky says, unable to help the joy and relief the bleeds from his voice. After going without for several days, Steve's alpha scent hits Bucky like a ton of bricks with how much it makes him ache to be close to Steve. 

"Hi," Steve says. He looks weary, but his mouth curves into a smile when he meets Bucky's eyes. 

"Are you okay?" Bucky asks, stepping back to let Steve inside. 

"Yeah," Steve says, though his voice is tight. "It's just...a lot."

"I'm sorry," Bucky says, voice gentle. He's never seen Steve like this before, so exhausted and… lost.

"How have you been? How's Thomas?" Steve glances over at where Thomas is napping; he'd fallen asleep that morning when they'd gone for a walk and Bucky hadn't moved him from the carseat. "He's getting big."

"We missed you."

That brings a smile back to Steve's face. It's small, but it's there. "I missed you guys too." 

"I was really worried. I had the news on all time."

Steve's expression twists into a grimace. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to leave without saying anything. But I got the call and I..." He lets out a sharp breath, shaking a little. Bucky can still sense all his hurt and fury, even beneath his joy at seeing Bucky again. "I had to go."

"I know," Bucky says gently. "I'm just really glad you're okay."

He doesn't know what comes over him, where the sudden wave of boldness came from, but Bucky takes a few steps into Steve's space and wraps his arms around him. Steve stiffens for a fraction of a second, but then melts right into Bucky's embrace, bringing his own arms up around Bucky's back. He's still trembling, even as he clings to Bucky tight, and without thinking, Bucky tilts his head, baring his neck, offering his scent to Steve. He knows the intimate implications of the gesture -- it's something mates would do, to give comfort and reassurance -- but Bucky doesn't care about that right now. He can see plainly how bad Steve is hurting, and all he wants to do is make him feel cared for.

"Buck…," Steve says softly as he tucks his nose into the crook of Bucky's neck. He's baring his own neck too, and Bucky scents him back. There's hurt in Steve's scent, sour and acrid, but it fades as they hold each other, turning to happiness and calm.

Steve moves his head back, meeting Bucky's eyes. There's still hurt there, but there's warmth and fondness too. He brings his hand to Bucky's jaw and when he leans in, Bucky moves with him, their lips meet in a gentle kiss. 

It lasts hardly a second before Steve pulls away, and when he looks up, Bucky sees that Steve's face has gone pink, his eyes wide and embarrassed.

"Was that-- was that okay?"

Bucky gives his answer in the form of another kiss, this time he's the one holding onto Steve's face, drawing him in close. He kisses Steve like he means it, pressing their lips hard together, parting his mouth to invite Steve's tongue in. Steve lets out a low sound at that, hands coming up around Bucky waist to pull their bodies flush together. Bucky can smell the unmistakable notes of arousal in Steve's scent, and it drives him wild, makes him feel half out of his mind. All he can think about how good it feels to have Steve's mouth on his, how he can't get enough of Steve's huge, gentle hands on his body, how he wants to make Steve feel good. 

Bucky rolls his hips, just a little, but the motion is enough to make Steve's breath hitch and he stammers, "Shit-- can we--?"

Bucky has enough presence of mind to look over at where Thomas is miraculously still napping in his infant carrier and grabs the baby monitor from the coffee table. He takes Steve by the hand.

"Bedroom."

Once past the threshold they waste no time, Bucky falling back onto the bed with Steve above him. They kiss and kiss and kiss. The mixed scent of their arousals hangs heavy in the air, making Bucky feel simultaneously dazed and ravenous. He can't get enough of Steve's touch, and he knows Steve is equally affected. In between heated kisses, Steve moves away for a brief moment to pull his shirt off, and Bucky's brain short-circuits a little at the sight of Steve's gloriously muscled arms and ridiculously toned torso. 

When Steve leans down again, his hands find their way to the hem of Bucky's t-shirt. Bucky tenses, feeling suddenly insecure. It's only been a few months since he had Thomas, and his body shows it, his belly soft and marred with stretch marks and the faint paint scar from his c-section. 

Steve senses his hesitation immediately and moves his hands away, and strangely, that display of sincerity is what spurs Bucky into pulling off his own shirt and guiding Steve back down into a kiss. Steve moves away after a second though, shifting back and looking Bucky up and down. He moves a hands down Bucky's middle, starting from his chest and tracing gently over his belly down to the waistband of his pants. Steve touches Bucky with gentle reverence that makes him shiver.

"I want to blow you," Steve says, voice full of clear certainty, despite his breathlessness. His fingers tease over the fabric of Bucky's pants, brushing over his obviously half-hard dick.

"Nobody's ever done that to me before," Bucky admits. Brock was the only alpha he'd ever been with, and he'd certainly never been one to care for Bucky's pleasure, subscribing to the outdated beliefs about how omega's only purpose was to make their alpha feel good. Despite his nervousness, though, Bucky felt himself becoming more aroused just thinking about Steve's mouth on him.

"I wanna make you feel good Buck. Please."

"Okay," Bucky whispers and Steve wastes no time undoing Bucky's fly and pulling his dick free. He takes the full length in his mouth and Bucky moans, his head falling back as Steve sucks him. It feels fucking amazing, like nothing Bucky has ever experienced during sex. He can tell by the way Steve moves his mouth so eagerly, so responsive to all the soft, punched-out noises Bucky makes, that he's trying so damn hard to make  _ Bucky  _ feel good. The physical pleasure of it feels magnified by that realization, and Bucky can't tell if the tears that suddenly spring from his eyes are from overstimulation of his dick or of his heart. 

"Fuck, Steve, I'm close," he manages to gasp out, barely two seconds before his orgasm hits him like an electric shock and he's coming inside Steve's mouth. 

Steve sucks him gently through it before pulling off and sitting up straight to look at Bucky, whole face blushing and his lips slightly swollen and tinged an obscene red. 

"Was that good?"

"That was fucking incredible," Bucky pants, feeling half delirious. He does have enough presence of mind, though, to notice the tent in Steve's pants. 

"C'mere," he says, sitting up and drawing Steve close. He trails a hand down Steve immaculate abdomen and stopping between his legs, looking up at Steve in question.

"Buck, you don't have to--"

"I want to. I want you to feel good too."

"Ok," Steve says and the next sound from his lips is a low moan when Bucky pulls his dick out and starts stroking. He's big, even for an alpha, and his knot is an impressive swell at the base. It makes Steve's breath hitch every time Bucky brushes his fingers over it, and Bucky can't help imagining what it would feel like to have Steve inside him, to be filled by him, to be locked together afterwards. 

"I want you to knot me," Bucky blurts, the words coming from his mouth without a thought, his hand on Steve's dick going still. 

Steve's eyes go wide. "Are you sure? I mean, you've already..."

"I want you. Please."

"God,  _ Bucky. _ " And then Steve is kissing him, hard, pressing him back down against the mattress. He pauses only for the few seconds it takes to divest them both of their pants.

"How do you wanna do this?" Steve pants in between sucking kisses along Bucky's collarbone.

It takes Bucky a second to reply, still feeling dazed and overstimulated. "This… this is good."

Steve settles back on his knees between Bucky's spread legs. Bucky can only imagine how obscene Steve's view is; he can feel his own slick running down the backs of his thighs. His dick is soft now, but he still  _ wants _ so bad it's almost an ache.

The tip of Steve's dick presses at his entrance and Bucky exhales, willing his body to relax as Steve slides inside him, slow and gentle. Bucky lets out a low noise; he knew Steve was big but  _ fuck _ . The sensation of him inside Bucky straddles the line between pleasure and pain in the absolute best way, and Bucky is desperate for it now. 

"Good?" Steve asks, stilling when Bucky moaned.

"Fucking amazing," Bucky breathes. "Don't you dare stop."

Steve, bless him, takes Bucky's encouragement to heart and starts to drive into him, moving in a rhythm that's not too rough but still makes Bucky feel like every cell in his body has been shot with electricity. With every thrust, he can feel Steve's knot pressing against his whole, tantalizingly close.

"Need your knot," Bucky says, breathless. "Steve, please."

Steve wastes no time after that. In the next thrust, he drives into Bucky hard enough that his knot goes inside two, stretching him even more. Bucky cries out at the sensation and then in the next second, he can feel Steve coming inside him, warm and pulsing. 

"Fuck,  _ fuck _ ," Steve gasps, eyes shut and mouth gaping as he shudders through his orgasm. He collapses on top of Bucky, and with some effort the two of them shift into a more comfortable position. They're going to be stuck like that for a while, after all. Bucky can't help grinning a little in satisfaction every time one of them moves a little and it jostles Steve's knot inside him.

"Shit. That was..." Steve is grinning down at Bucky, practically glowing.

"Yeah," is all Bucky can manage, dazed and wrung out. He tucks his face against Steve's neck, taking in the unbelievable aroma of sated alpha. 

They're quiet for a few moments, just existing together in the warm stillness. Then Steve brings a hand to Bucky's face, cradling his jaw, and says, "This wasn't exactly how I planned to tell you, but the new leaders of SHIELD offered me an executive position. They want me to relocate to DC."

Bucky stiffens, and all of a sudden it feels like his heart is in his throat.

Steve strokes Bucky's cheek with his thumb. "I told them I would think about it, and then I came back here. To see you. To see… if I had a reason to stay."

"Oh," Bucky says very quietly as the full implication of Steve's words sink it.

"Bucky. Do I have a reason to stay?"

Bucky is filled immediately with panic and doubt. He shouldn't keep Steve from important work in DC. Steve will resent him for it, eventually. He probably only slept with Bucky because he was distressed and needed comfort; this isn't really how Steve feels. 

Except… Steve came back before he said yes to SHIELD. He came to Bucky's door and his expression fell apart in joy and relief when he saw Bucky. He kissed Bucky so sweetly, took him apart with utter adoration, knotted their bodies together. 

And now he's staring at Bucky with his face so open and sincere and asking  _ Do I have a reason to stay? _

Very slowly, Bucky nods.


	3. Epilogue

"I cannot believe Iron Man is coming to my son's first birthday party," Bucky says and huffs out a disbelieving laugh. He's in the kitchen with Sam, putting together a cheese tray and bowls of chips. Outside, he can see a matte grey Lamborghini pull into the driveway, and a few seconds later Tony Stark and Pepper Potts are crossing the front lawn, heading towards the backyard.

"Well, that's what you get for mating Captain America," Sam says and Bucky's fingers move unconsciously to brush the now-healed mating bite on his neck that Steve had given him a few months ago, on the night Bucky and Thomas had moved into Steve's house.

Bucky can't help smiling as he thinks about it, but then his expression quickly turns into a grimace when he watches Sam dip a Dorito into the chocolate fondue dip.

"Seriously?"

"Can't help it," Sam says with a shrug and taps his swollen belly. "Baby wants what the baby wants."

Bucky makes an exaggerated noise of disgust, but he's smiling while he does it. He's genuinely happy for Sam and Riley; he can't think of any couple that would make better parents. And he's glad Thomas will have someone his own age living just down the road. 

Steve comes into the kitchen just then, Thomas in his arms. "Everything's all set outside. You guys need any help in here?" 

"I think we're all good with these snacks. If you can carry everything out, I'll take the birthday boy." Bucky holds out his arms and Steve easily transfers Thomas over. 

"Da da da!" Thomas shouts gleefully, throwing his arms around Bucky's neck. Bucky can't believe how much he's grown in the last few months. He looks the way Bucky remembers he himself looked as a toddler in old photos: big blue eyes, a dimpled chin, and a full head of curly dark hair. 

"Are you excited?" Bucky says, bouncing his son on his hip as they follow Steve and Sam out to the backyard. "Everybody came just for you!"

Even though he'd watched everyone arrive through the front window, Bucky is still awestruck by the sight that greets him when he walks outside. The  _ Avengers _ are in his  _ backyard _ . Riley is grabbing beers for Hawkeye and the Black Widow. Bucky's co-workers at the library -- where he's been working for a couple months now -- are chatting with Bruce Banner.

Steve meant it when he'd asked Bucky to give him a reason to stay, but even though he didn't move away to DC, Steve still kept in touch with the team he'd fought alongside during the Battle of New York and promised he'd come if they ever called on him for help. It had happened a few times, and Bucky always spent the entire time sick with worry, but Steve always came back. Back to Bucky and Thomas. Back to their home.

"Hey, Sam Walton's Worst Nightmare! Bring the baby over here, I wanna give him his present."

Bucky rolls his eyes, but walks over to where Tony Stark is sitting. There's a huge wrapped box on the ground next to him. 

"Tony, we're doing presents after cake," Steve complains, coming up next to Bucky.

"Rogers, when have you ever known me to behave as one should at a party?"

Steve glances over at Bucky, who just shrugs and puts Thomas down on the grass next to the gift. The toddler immediately starts ripping away the wrapping paper. After a several seconds, it becomes clear what was in the box. 

"You bought my son a hover-car," Steve deadpans.

"I did not  _ buy _ your son a hover-car. I  _ made _ your son a hover-car."

"Tony, he's one--"

"I programmed a ton of safety and anti-crash features. It's got GPS tracking and--"

They bicker back and forth until Steve turns to Bucky and asks, "What do you think?"

"I think… it's a really nice gift." Bucky gives Steve an apologetic look. He knows Steve had probably expected him to take his side, but it's a freaking  _ hover-car _ . And anyways, Tony  _ had  _ listed quite a litany of built-in safety features.

"Hah!" Tony exclaims. "Give me two minutes to get this thing running and your kid will be riding in style."

Steve sighs but doesn't protest when Tony starts tinkering. Thomas is watching with comically rapt attention, and Steve and Bucky exchange a laugh over it.

"You're really happy right now. I can feel it. You that excited about a mini flying car?" Steve nudges Bucky with his hip, smiling teasingly. 

"You called Thomas your son," Bucky says softly.

Steve's expression turns sheepish. "I'm sorry-- I mean, I know we've never really talked about--"

"It's okay." Bucky beams up at Steve, taking his hand. "I'm happy that's how you feel."

Steve's face turns to joyful relief, and through their bond, Bucky can feel every bit of the love they share for each other and for their son. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/amethystk219)


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